To Everything Its Time
by WickedForGood13
Summary: In the months following the Final Battle, two young witches find comfort in each other's arms.


This story is significant for two reasons: first, and most importantly, this is my present for my friend Rose's twenty-first birthday; second, I've never written this pairing before. My thanks, as always, to HarmonyLover for the advance read and beta.

* * *

**To Everything Its Time**

As Hermione sat by the pond near the Burrow reading her book, a light breeze playfully ruffled her hair, soothing her flushed cheeks. It was mid-July – almost three full months had passed since the Final Battle – and the young witch still had trouble wrapping her mind around all that had changed in such a short amount of time.

Following the battle's epic conclusion, Hermione had journeyed to Australia with Harry and Ron so as to reverse the memory charm she had placed on her parents as a protective measure. They were thrilled to be reunited with their daughter, if not a little shaken at having now been made aware the full extent of her power. The golden trio spent several weeks in Australia – Harry and Ron biding their time, while Hermione brought her parents up to speed on the situation in her world – before finally returning to England... and Hogwarts.

Though Hermione was reluctant to leave her parents behind for a second time, they convinced her that it was the right thing to do. Despite having had their memories altered, the Grangers had nevertheless fallen in love with Australia and had no desire to return to the cold and foggy climate of their native homeland. They told Hermione as much, which finally persuaded her to accompany Harry and Ron back to England and assist in rebuilding Hogwarts, parts of which had been almost entirely demolished in the climactic battle that had determined the fate of the wizarding world.

The work was hard, but Hermione appreciated the mind-numbing effect that rebuilding Hogwarts stone-by-stone had on her, leaving her without either time or energy to contemplate the atrocities she had both witnessed and participated in. In this, Harry and Ron were a great comfort to her, as they had seen and acted similarly, and so she didn't have to explain herself to them.

Hermione was lost, though.

Ron had decided that he needed to get away and clear his head while he came to terms with Fred's death and other horrors that the war had wrought upon himself and his family. So, immediately after the completion of Hogwarts' reconstruction, he had joined his brother Charlie in Romania, breaking off his relationship with Hermione shortly after it had started. In their discussion, both had agreed – no strings. They would make a clean break, leaving the other free to explore the possibility of other relationships. Surprisingly, Hermione wasn't as devastated by the split as had been expected by either herself or by others, for in her and Ron's discussion, they had agreed that while the camaraderie they had experienced with each other was nice, that's all they'd ever been destined for: friendship. They had always been so different, and now with the war, it would have been a wonder if they could have carried on like they were still in school at Hogwarts.

It felt as though the trio of friends were really breaking up for good when Harry announced his intention go backpacking through Europe... with none other than Draco Malfoy! Harry's rescue of the blond man in the Room of Requirement had apparently forged a bond between them that both were now eager to explore, hence the trip designed to allow the former rivals to get to know each other better, as well as to recover from the war – together. Ginny had taken the news remarkably well, though Hermione thought that she had heard the sound of muffled sobs coming from the direction of her room later on. Respecting her friend's privacy, though, Hermione had left Ginny alone, waiting for the younger witch to come to her.

That time was apparently upon her, as Ginny plopped herself down next to Hermione and commenced to staring out over the calm surface of the pond.

"Harry's left then, I take it?" asked Hermione to break the almost-unbearable silence.

Ginny nodded, minutely. "Yeah, I just saw him off."

"How are you holding up?" Hermione felt obligated to ask, even though she could probably guess at how Ginny was feeling.

"Surprisingly well," she responded, which shocked Hermione, who had expected for Ginny to be heartbroken at losing her childhood sweetheart to a male rival.

Her thoughts must have been mirrored on her face, for Ginny chuckled weakly before elaborating, "Really, Hermione, I'm doing okay. War will always change people, and I've accepted that this war changed both him and me too much for us to ever be compatible with each other again."

"Wow, Ginny," Hermione exclaimed. "That's... that's really deep."

"Well, I guess after so many years, some of you finally rubbed off on me," said Ginny with a small-but-genuine smile, the sight of which gladdened Hermione's heart.

"Do you mind if I'm honest with you about something?" Hermione inquired. At Ginny's nod of assent, she continued, "Honestly speaking, I don't think that you and Harry were the perfect couple. No offense, but you still idolized him too much. You hero-worshipped him as you would a brother, not a lover."

Hermione had discarded her book while talking with Ginny, but now she picked it up again and began to flip idly through the pages, too scared of meeting Ginny's eyes for fear of having offended her. She started at feeling a gentle hand come to rest on her shoulder, and she turned instinctively to face Ginny.

"It's alright, Hermione; I'm not upset," she assured the older witch. "And... you're right. It's fine to completely adore your brother – that's how I feel about all six of mine, although I'm not sure if I should count Percy or not, seeing as he's a prat most of the time – but it isn't healthy to treat your lover as though he were made of glass and should be put on a pedestal. That's how I was with Harry, and that's why I'm not as broken up over losing him to Draco as I thought I would be... or as others thought I would be –" At this, Hermione flushed and looked away for a moment to gain her composure "– Besides, Draco's an alright guy. The war changed him as much as it did any of us, and I think that in his case, any change he underwent could only be for the better."

The two young witches fell into a more comfortable and companionable silence after that, content to simply let nature flow around them. But Ginny couldn't stand the silence for long, and soon turned to Hermione.

"While we're being honest, there's something I'd like to say, too," she revealed. Hermione nodded, and Ginny took a deep breath, closing her eyes briefly to steel herself for what was to come. "Honestly speaking, I don't think that you and Ron were an ideal match, either –" She looked up to see how Hermione was taking her somewhat-harsh statement, and saw only interest on her friend's face. Taking courage that she hadn't been rejected outright, Ginny forged on ahead "– Truthfully, you two were so different, that while it was obvious that you had feelings for each other, it was also just as obvious that you wouldn't be compatible as a couple. I love Ron – he's my brother, and I'll defend him 'til my last breath – but he can be a bit oblivious at times, not to mention he speaks without thinking, which can lead to hurt feelings on the part of more than one of his friends and family members."

Hermione was leaning on her side, propped up on one elbow. When Ginny had finished talking, she mimicked her friend's position and waited for her to speak.

"I'll share something with you, Ginny," said Hermione, at last. "While a part of me truly, deeply, and utterly loves Ron, I don't think that we were meant to be either. Honestly, I only got together with him in the heat of battle because I thought that each moment might be my last and I wanted to have lived life to its fullest, so that when I died, it would be without any regrets."

"That's beautiful, 'Mione," Ginny murmured, the nickname reserved only for use by either her brother or his best mate slipping unbidden past her lips. Hermione didn't call her on it, as she rather liked the sound of her shortened name coming from Ginny as opposed to from either of her other two best friends, as was usually the case.

The girls lay on their backs in the soft summer grass, watching as clouds drifted lazily across the light blue sky. Both felt at peace for the first time in over a year, yet neither witch realized that the cause of their contentment was within arm's reach. Presently, Hermione sat up again and, placing her book in her lap, began to read aloud—

"To everything there is a season, and  
a time to every purpose under heaven:

A time to be born, and a time to die;  
a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;

A time to kill, and a time to heal;  
a time to break down, and a time to build up;

A time to weep, and a time to laugh;  
a time to mourn, and a time to dance;

A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;  
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;

A time to get, and a time to lose;  
a time to keep, and a time to cast away;

A time to rend, and a time to sow;  
a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;

A time to love, and a time to hate;  
a time of war; and a time of peace."

"What's that from?" asked Ginny after a moment's pause, during which the words Hermione had recited seemed to fill her up to the brink with warmth and security, resonating in her very soul.

"It's from the Muggle Bible," Hermione explained. "I've been reading it ever since the end of the war. Even though I've never really believed in God, I needed something to ground me and help me to find faith in humanity again. I thought this would be a fitting passage to share with you. Everything has its time, Ginny. You'll see – our lives will fall into place when we least expect it. Look at me: when I started at Hogwarts, I never imagined that I'd end up where I am today. The same can be said of you, I'm sure."

"That's true," Ginny conceded. "For one thing, I never thought I'd survive this war, much less in one piece... relatively speaking, that is." The red-headed witch became pensive as her thoughts turned to her lately departed brother, Fred, and the hole he had left in her heart. She missed him, every day – oh god, how she missed him. Ginny didn't see how time could heal such a wound, but she'd trust in Hermione's words. After all, the brightest witch of their age had yet to steer her wrong.

Hermione watched as a cloud seemed to pass over Ginny's face, and knew that she was thinking of Fred. Without a care for propriety, Hermione set her book aside and pulled Ginny into her arms, stroking her sleek, shiny hair and murmuring a litany of reassuring nonsense into the younger witch's ear. Ginny's shoulders shook with barely-concealed sobs, and Hermione patted her back with a firm hand before eventually settling into a soothing pattern of intricate circles. Finally, though, Ginny pulled away from Hermione's sheltering embrace. And as the two young women regarded each other, Hermione saw signs of weariness in her friend's face that hadn't been apparent before (or perhaps she had merely been choosing not to see): besides the tell-tale tear tracks trickling down Ginny's pale cheeks, there were bags under her eyes and creases in her forehead, leading Hermione to wonder if she'd been getting any sleep at all, or simply tossing and turning about with too much on her mind.

Her heart broke for her friend as she realized that she had been so focused on her own life that she had forgotten about her surroundings – namely, Ginny, and whether or not she was coping.

"I'm so sorry, Ginny," Hermione murmured. "I was so wrapped up in my own problems that I forgot to check how you were doing."

"Hermione, don't blame yourself," Ginny chided her. "You've had a lot on your mind. You wiped out your parents' memories, after all. That's a pretty big deal. I'm hardly going to take precedence over _that_."

"Still – you're my friend, and I should have remembered that I'm not the only one who's been affected by this war. There are others who have suffered greater losses than mine," Hermione retorted.

"Fine, blame yourself if you like. But just know that _I_ forgive you," said Ginny with a note of finality in her voice.

"Thanks, Gin," Hermione whispered, her entire demeanor softening at her friend's words.

Their issues seemingly sorted, the girls once more lapsed into silence, the air between them cleared. They remained that way until Mrs. Weasley called them in for dinner, both rising as one and immediately moving to clasp hands, the dynamic in their relationship having shifted over the course of that single afternoon.

* * *

Since the war's end, dinner had become a somber affair without the twins to cause mischief and mayhem at the slightest provocation. George stared sullenly at his plate, only eating when prompted. When Fred died, he took George with him and left only a shell in his wake. Ginny and Hermione now eyed each other across the table, worried for George's well-being. Both witches vowed to talk to him that night, either alone or together, but they _would_ get him to face the reality of a life without Fred, one way or another.

The Weasley parents observed their brood from where they sat at the head of the table, intertwining their fingers and squeezing reassuringly as they watched their boys – now, only Percy and George – pick at their food while the girls – Ginny and Hermione – could only look on, worry-lines marring their features. Percy soon asked to be excused and hurriedly pushed his chair back, disappearing from sight up the stairs. He spent most of his time shut up in his room nowadays, clearly blaming himself for the part he had to play in Fred's death. George, meanwhile, followed his elder brother's example by retreating outside. He meandered along the Weasley's property line before finally coming to rest beneath the same tree as Hermione and Ginny had just that afternoon, stripping off his socks and shoes so as to dangle his feet in the refreshingly cool pond water.

The two remaining witches had been surreptitiously observing him all this time, while simultaneously helping Mrs. Weasley to tidy up, and now saw this as their chance to talk to him alone. Wishing the Weasleys a pleasant evening, Hermione and Ginny trooped outside to ambush George, who had been avoiding any form of extended contact – both with them and with others – since Fred's funeral, at which he hadn't even cried. Strolling casually down to the pond, the girls followed George's example in baring their feet and had soon joined him in wading in the shallows. He didn't seem to notice their presence, and Ginny shot Hermione a knowing glance over George's shoulder.

"I miss him, too, you know," the youngest Weasley said without preamble. "We all do, George. It's okay to admit the same; it's okay to cry, to grieve..."

"You don't _know_ anything," George shot back, venom dripping from every word he spoke. "He was more than my brother – he was my twin, my other half. Can you imagine what it feels like to be missing a part of yourself?"

"Fred was a part of all of us, but none more so than you," Ginny acknowledged. "But do you really think he'd appreciate what you're doing to yourself? You're wasting away, George. You may think you're honoring Fred by holding on to his memory, but you're only doing yourself harm. You haven't even cried since he died. You need to let out your emotions, brother mine, or you'll never move on."

Hermione had remained silent throughout Ginny's speech, and was therefore surprised when she was the one George turned to, his eyes glassy with tears that soon began tracking a steady path down his cheeks. Acting purely on instinct, Hermione took the young man in her arms and held him as she had Ginny that very afternoon. She petted his hair, her fingers accidentally brushing against the hole where his left ear should have been; her other arm wound tightly around George's back, pinning him to her. She sensed, more than saw, Ginny join her and wrap her own arms around George. The trio remained that way for many moments, and when they finally pulled away, none of them had a dry eye, both Ginny and Hermione having shed their own tears for Fred. When George met Hermione and Ginny's eyes, there was a new light in them, a spark that both girls hadn't seen since the last time the twins had been together. George had made his peace with Fred's death, although it would be many more years before he completely came to terms with his loss or even came close to letting Fred's memory go. And that was alright; he'd started to heal that very night by crying into Hermione's shoulder and staining her shirt with his tears.

"Feel better?" asked Hermione, the first words she'd spoken since venturing outside with Ginny.

"Not yet, but I'll get there," said George, sniffling slightly as he fought to prevent any more traitorous tears from slipping past his eyes and down his cheeks so as to drip steadily off of his pointed chin.

"Of course you will," Ginny cheered him, her own voice rough from crying. "And we'll all be there to help you along the way. You're not alone, Georgie."

Hearing Fred's old nickname for him – coupled with Ginny's previous usage of Fred's coined phrase, 'brother mine' – had George blinking furiously, determined that he'd cried enough for one night and would save any further tears for his pillow, though only once he was secure in the knowledge that no one else would witness his moment of weakness.

"Thanks, Gin," he said, embracing her and kissing the top of her head. "You've been a great help; you too, Hermione."

"We were glad to oblige," said Hermione, answering for both herself and Ginny.

"Well... thanks," he said again, shoving his hands in his pockets and starting to make his way back to the Burrow. "I'll be going in, now. Don't stay out too late, or Mum'll have your hides."

"We won't," Ginny assured him, watching until he had closed the door behind him before turning to face Hermione. "Well, that went better than I expected," she remarked candidly.

"Yes," Hermione murmured, obviously lost in thought. "Of course, he won't ever be the same George again, but I think he'll make more of an effort now, if for no other reason than to honor Fred's memory."

"I hope so," said Ginny, moving to stand closer to Hermione until they were pressed shoulder-to-shoulder. "Hey – how 'bout a quick dip in the pond before bed?"

"But we don't have any swimsuits," Hermione protested, though not as vehemently as she might have before the war.

Ginny was already shedding her outer layer of clothing until she was in nothing but her bra and panties. Far from being embarrassed, Ginny reveled in her nakedness; she and Hermione had seen plenty of each other in a similar state over the years, what with sharing a room during the summer and all. "Who needs swimsuits when we have our undergarments?" she replied at long last to Hermione's query. "Come on, Granger; lighten up."

At the taunting lilt in Ginny's voice, Hermione was quick to follow her example and had soon stripped down to a similar state of undress. Wading into the shallows, she dove underneath the pond's surface, cutting through the water like a knife. It was only as she emerged, spluttering while simultaneously shaking droplets of moisture from her face, that she realized Ginny had remained on shore and had yet to get wet. Instead, she was watching Hermione with avid curiosity, as though wondering what she would do next. Diving back under the water, Hermione lurked at the pond's edge, waiting for the opportune moment to strike. That moment came when Ginny turned her attention to her mother, who was calling for her and Hermione to come inside. With Ginny effectively distracted, Hermione sprang into action, her hands cupped with water, splashing Ginny until she was drenched.

With an indignant shriek, Ginny retaliated, diving into the water and moving her hands into position to splash Hermione back. They continued their water fight for several minutes, until they were completely out of breath from laughing so hard. Only then did they drag their bodies up out of the water and splay across the grassy shore, limbs entangled. Together they stared up at the starry sky, and neither noticed when they moved closer until their heads were resting on each other's shoulder.

The sound of their names being called broke the tranquility of the moment, forcing them both back to reality. With slow movements, they dressed before heading inside, hands casually brushing and fingers reaching for each other. Bidding goodnight to the Weasleys, who were sitting close to each other on the couch and staring at the pictures of their family that lined the mantle, Hermione and Ginny made their way upstairs, where they showered properly before donning nightshirts and pajama bottoms.

As they lay down to sleep, both witches realized that neither had thought of their respective partners – _former_ partners, their traitorous minds informed them – throughout the entirety of their day together.

Perhaps each was the key to the other's loneliness.

* * *

Time passed, life becoming easier for the survivors of the war, just as Hermione had foretold. Over the remainder of the summer, Hermione and Ginny continued to meet by the edge of the pond. Hermione would read to Ginny, often from the Bible, and Ginny would then in turn convince Hermione to go swimming. It was a wonderful summer, the best that either could ever recall experiencing, which surprised them when they stopped to think how their little group was missing Ron and Harry and Fred.

In mid-August, a month since Ginny had first joined Hermione by the pond's edge, the two received their Hogwarts letters, Hermione having elected to return in order to complete her seventh year as a result of having missed her education while on the run hunting Horcruxes. Ginny was glad to have a friend returning with her. Although Luna would be there, too, no one compared to Hermione. Not to mention that Ginny would no doubt benefit from Hermione's tutelage during Hogwarts' end-of-year exams.

The Burrow was currently in an uproar as Mrs. Weasley prepared to accompany Ginny and Hermione to the train station. Hermione had gladly escaped to her and Ginny's sanctuary by the pond, and was unsurprised when the youngest Weasley soon joined her.

"It's like a madhouse in there," the red-head remarked as she took a seat next to Hermione. When the bushy-haired witch didn't immediately respond, Ginny took the time to examine her pensive expression. "What's on your mind, 'Mione?" she ventured to ask.

After a moment's pause, during which Hermione gathered her thoughts, the elder girl at last replied. "Harry, Ron, and I have always done everything together, since the beginning. It's just... it feels strange to be going back to Hogwarts without them."

"You'll still have me," said Ginny, reaching for the ground between them and clasping Hermione's hand in hers. "I know I can't compare or even hope to measure up to two-thirds of the golden trio..."

"Don't talk about yourself like that," Hermione gently admonished her. "You're more than enough, trust me. I'm just feeling nostalgic; ignore me."

"Impossible," Ginny quipped, before leaning forward and lightly pressing her lips against Hermione's.

Momentarily stunned, Hermione was caught off guard before her brain helpfully informed her that she should respond. And so she did, kissing back with equal passion and pushing Ginny down to lie on her back. Moving as one, the witches stretched a hand out to carefully trace their newfound partner's face, as if memorizing their features by heart, pausing to stroke each other's cheek with the pad of their thumb. Ginny smiled tenderly up at Hermione, who let out a light giggle before pausing to brush a stray lock of hair behind Ginny's ear. Neither seemed to notice the way Hermione was straddling Ginny, her legs on either side of the younger witch's hips, nor would they have cared had they known they were being observed from the Burrow's kitchen window by Mrs. Weasley and George. All that mattered in that moment was each other.

Hermione eventually pulled away, allowing Ginny to sit upright once more. They briefly stared into each other's eyes before dissolving into giggles again, effectively releasing the tension that had unknowingly been building since Ginny had first joined Hermione by the water's edge and suggested that they take a moonlit dip in their undergarments. Hermione now moved to take Ginny in her arms, guiding the younger witch's head to rest in the space between her neck and shoulders, and they sat staring into the pond's murky depths in which they had swum so many times.

"I told you that, given time, everything would fall into place," Hermione said at last, moving to rest her head on top of Ginny's.

"I never doubted you," Ginny quietly responded, tilting her head up in an invitation for Hermione to bend down and connect their lips, which she swiftly did.

The day was still young, and neither was in a hurry to catch the train to Hogwarts. As Hermione had once said, everything has its time, and their time – Hermione's and Ginny's – was now.


End file.
